Geoff Calkins: Church Health Center Wellness volunteer James Fisher led life of dignity despite tragedy

He was at his normal place, at the front desk of the Wellness Center. James Fisher didn't get paid to do this. He volunteered.

So he showed up on that January day in 2012, the way he always did, with a spring in his step and a kind word for any who happened to wander in.

"He encouraged people," said Scott Morris, founder of the Church Health Center, which opened the Wellness Center to help people live fuller, more vigorous lives.

Fisher had a particular chair he liked to occupy at the front desk of the Wellness Center. Brenda Campbell, who shared desk duties with Fisher, used to kid him about that.

So Fisher was almost certainly in that chair when he got the call, when he heard the news that would forever shatter him.

His son, his daughter-in-law and his granddaughter had all been murdered. Ricky Fisher, 46, Patricia Fisher, 46, and PaShea Fisher, 23, had been shot dead in their home. PaShea's boyfriend would later be arrested and charged with the crime.

"He never recovered from that," said Campbell. "He still came in and tried. But, truthfully, I think it broke his heart."

The Banana Man

James Fisher died recently at the age of 77. His funeral took place Friday at St. Andrew AME Church.

"If he had his way, we would have been here a long time ago," said Dr. Kenneth Robinson, presiding over Fisher's service. "He said, 'I'm done, I'm ready to leave this place.' "

So maybe you think this is the story of a man who was brought down by an unbearable tragedy. And I guess it could be interpreted that way. But that would be missing everything that came before, including Fisher's wonderful nickname.

"The Banana Man," said Morris, breaking into a smile, because it's impossible not to smile at a nickname like that.

When the Church Health Center first opened the Wellness Center, it hired a few people to serve as peer counselors, to work out with other members and encourage them as they exercised.

Fisher was one of the first peer counselors. He was paid minimum wage to be a cheerful presence around the place. Before too long, the money for the peer counselor project ran out. But Fisher never went away.

"He kept coming," said Campbell. "He treated it like his job. A lot of people thought he was on staff. They didn't realize he was doing it for free."

Fisher greeted people from behind the front desk. But he did a whole lot more than that.

"He used to go to stores around town and get day-old bananas," said Campbell. "He'd bring them in with him. He didn't just get a few bananas. You can't believe how many he got. The whole table would be piled high with bananas."

Hence the nickname: Banana Man.

Fisher would make giant salads, too. He'd give people all kinds of gifts.

"If Kroger had a sale on sugar for $1.59, he'd buy out the whole shelf," said Campbell. "Then he'd give people sugar as a present. Or he'd give cans of cashews and pecans.

"If you lost someone in your family, he'd make sure you got a card. And he wasn't going to give anyone an empty card. There was always a check in it."

Fisher wasn't rich or anything. He had retired after years of working at the Kellogg's plant.

"He liked making people happy," said Campbell. "That's just who he was."

And then, on that January day of 2012, Fisher's own happiness was destroyed.

"Everyone tried to reach him," said Robinson.

Said Campbell: "Sometimes, at the front desk, he would just break down and cry."

You know that saying, that God doesn't give people more than they can handle?

That's bunk. Life certainly gave Fisher more than he could handle. More than any of us could handle for that matter.

But that doesn't mean Fisher's life has to be defined by that tragedy, that his 77 years can be summed up by what happened in the last 18 months.

"To me, life is more complicated than that," said Morris. "It's an entire spectrum, the good and the bad. If you took the worst 100 days from any of our lives, it would look like a living Hell. It just happened that James Fisher's worst 100 days came at the end. But his life was filled with joy and grace. It was a good, rich, beautiful life."

There is an informal tribute to that life at the front desk of the Wellness Center, including a photo of Fisher, sitting in his favorite chair.

"He understood that a kind word, a touch, or a banana can make someone's life better," said Morris. "If you can make someone's life better with a banana, wouldn't you do that?"